Look at me
by livingforfiction
Summary: Pure M rated magic between our two favorite fools.
1. Look at me

**Yoooo kids, let's celebrate for the next three months! **

**I started writing this last week, before 8.16 happened. However, it can easily fit as the scene that comes after, the one we haven't seen yet *wink wink*.**

**You must know, this is pure sex. Plain and simple. And it's quite explicit. You've been warned. Please, do tell me what you think, or whether or not you wish me to continue this.**

**Thanks! and happy Darvey writing ;)**

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The most accurate myth of femininity he knows, stands in front of him, with the straps of her nightgown at just an inch of distance from falling. His fingers make that nightgown go away. A hand holds her glute, the other one intertwines into her hair. She kneels on top of her bed, facing him.

"Look at me." he says.

She does, but she immediately goes back to stare at his lips. His lips which were screaming for her to eat them.

Instead, she grabs his hand, presses her middle and ring fingers beside his middle finger and takes the hand against her bare abdomen. Now, she makes his palm apply pressure, while her nails subtly scratch the back of his hand. She keeps staring at his mouth; her own mouth is segregating bigger amounts of saliva. Her stomach pushes inside of her, asking her to satisfy the need. Her vagina contracts at a uniform pace, getting more and more anxious at every second.

His hand starts sliding down. His fingertips reach the silk of her panties, and they get past it, touching her pubic bone. She mouths… and she spreads her legs wider. He doesn't go on, because he wants her to handle this however she wants. She takes his hand again; with her hand on top of his, she pushes his middle finger down. Her hand goes down a little more, and his finger lands where it's supposed to. Her clitoris sends a hit of electricity through her body, and she moans. Softly, subtly and deliciously. Her eyes shut tight, and her lips form a very discreet smile. He rubs her flesh very slowly, carefully, observing where and how his touch makes her writhe.

His other hand escapes, runs slowly up towards her hip, and further to her butt. That beautiful, tender and round flesh. He caresses it; he feels it, he pictures what he likes to do with it. Meanwhile, he keeps moving his middle finger between her lips, and she keeps moaning.

"Clench" Donna says. And he gladly does; he squeezes the skin in his palm, and she rests her left hand on his shoulders for support. Her right hand is still pushing his into her genitals. His finger tip feels hard against her wet flesh, and every pore of her body emanated heat.

She tilts her head back involuntarily, and groans softly once more; almost like a purr, like the tales we read about the greek goddesses, like Aphrodite, like a female version of Eros. No other woman had the gifts this particular woman had, he knew.

Her hand pulls his up gently, indicating him to stop. She stares; her neck is burning, so is his. Her knees raise a bit and move her backwards; she keeps staring, but with a defying look. Like a cat that knows will get the mouse, but she's just waiting for it to fall into her trap. She leans on her arms, and then lays on her back, displayed in front of him. He takes one step forward, and his knees touch the covers.

She keeps staring; her legs rise slowly, and they open, asking him to get between them. He bends, and he reaches the silk of her panties once more. Her hips rise too, and just as synchronized, his hands slide down the undergarment, and he enjoys the heat of anticipation he sees in her pupils and the pleasure he feels himself by seeing what he coveted for so many years.

The silk hits the floor. His body pounces over hers. Her nails scratch the back of his shoulders; her thighs wrap his waist. He takes her cheeks between his hands, and while she closes her eyes, she feels the pounding of her pulse in her clitoris.

A breath of air; of tense air, of unsatisfied desire, a breath of supplicant lust. Her eyes say _now, please_.

He kisses her chest. Then he goes down, wetting the skin that covers her sternum meanwhile, his palms squeeze the softness of her breasts. Her lower abdomen contracts when she feels his lips caressing. Her vagina contracts desperately. She wants to tell him to rush, but she can't get her mind to elaborate the words. Even those simple words. But her body does; when he's kissing just below her navel, he feels the temperature of her thighs rounding up his neck, and simultaneously, a gently tug on his hair.

He runs his mouth above the rest of her abdomen, and her pubic bone. Then she feels her legs opening, and his hands beneath them. She opens her eyes and looks down; he glances at her. His right hand, which rubs the inside of her thigh, disappears from her vision range.

She sees him staring at her vulva; the sight of that only, made her unbearably wet. Then she feels the hardness of the tip of his middle finger on her vagina; circling, waiting for it to come in.

A moan. A hard one. He was being painfully patient, because what he was seeing is what he liked the most.

His finger gets in. She moans again. Louder. Her hands grasp the blankets at her sides. Her mouth opens, and her chest raises and lowers with intensity. Her hips thrust against his hand. Another finger comes in, and he presses. Seconds pass; his fingers dance. Her whole body arches backwards. The sounds are growing… so is the tension inside of her. Her eyes start pouring tears, and she grabs a pillow that holds above her head and squeezes inside her fists.

She feels like she's going to burst out of the limits of her own body. She can't moan louder enough either. Her skin exploding and her bones breaking while the energy gets out. He pushes his fingers against her contracted inner muscles while his other hand rests on her belly. What a gorgeous view.

_He wonders how could he take so damn long._


	2. I could stare at you my whole life

**Yooo thanks for the reviews. This is my writing style, i've tried many over the years, whatever feels good to me at the moment. I'm loving the amount of Darvey stuff we're getting thanks to the S8 finale! Now we can only hope S9 is ten thousand times better. I always love to read what you think, so please tell me. Love.**

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_The morning after_

She stretches her arm until she can get ahold of her phone. _Seven fifty._ Without having to look at him, she can already feel the smile of satisfaction growing in her face. She thought she wasn't being a fool for doubting whether or not this was real, whether or not this was going to be something solid. He may regret it just today, although, she doubted it. She knew him way too well, they were in a different place, a different position now. If she were to take a jump of faith, she could swear he was going serious in this.

The blankets feel warm. And cozy, and soft. The pillow is fluffy, so was her sleep. Besides the fact that they went through all stages last night, it was not only physical activity that had her so well rested. She saw a different look in his eyes last night; she cried in their kiss, that's how she sensed it. She just knew.

He's asleep. And she stares… he's pretty. And hot. Damn him. Her fingers travel to his lips; she caresses them. _You're perfect,_ she whispers to herself. She could make a list of his flaws, however, she loved him with every single one of them. She never knew how, she wondered; if he had been any other guy who came up to her with all that shit Harvey had in him, she wouldn't waste a second.

But oh, the Lord works in mysterious ways. _You are perfect_, she keeps repeating to herself. He takes a deep breath, his eyebrows furrow slightly, and she retrieves her fingers, in case she might have awoken him.

His eyes open and his brown pupils find her hazels. And then he smiles, _what a cute thing you are, _she thinks.

-Hi. -he whispers. -Hi. -she whispered, just as softly as him. They stare… for quite a few seconds.

-You're pretty, you know that? -he says, with a smile. She chuckles, and then unconsciously bites her lip. - Well, thank you. I know it, but it's nice to hear it. -they don't raise their voices, afraid of breaking the sort of spell they felt into.

\- Now that I think about it, I should say that more often.

She smiles again. But this is a bigger smile, one that grows from her inside and not only because of the nice words. _Often. There is going to be an often. _It was not an easy thing for neither of them to wrap their minds about this yet. They might know each other well too much already, but sharing their lives is exactly the reason why they were afraid to try this before. Difference is, the part that was not willing to try before, is willing now. Because she was always in the wait, always hanging on the thin lines that were about to shatter many times, convinced -and hopeful she wasn't being naive, it's fair to say- that what happened last night, would happen eventually.

Alex's words pop into her mind now. _You told him because you love him._ He was… so right, she screamed in her mind.

-Harvey… -she whispers. He stares, he's listening. But before she continues, he places his hand on her cheek, while their eyes keep locked on each other's.

_Hmm?_ he mumbles. She was just about to ask it, separated her lips just a bit before she chose to ask something else. She thought it better.

He could notice she went back, with whatever she wanted to say. But he waited, the last thing he wanted right now was press her.

\- What about we… make some coffee?

The morning was cold. It was cloudy, a grey morning in bed with him was something she had pictured more times than she could count.

\- Yes. Please let's. But then we go back in here, because I wouldn't want to leave anytime soon.

She chuckled again. - Neither do I.

They got up. She put on her dressing gown, and he put on the same clothes he had last night. Making coffee is not something that requires a lot of help, so it's fair to say that they only got up together to do it was because they were under this magic spell that glued them, last night at her hallway. Because they had been apart for so long, and now they don't have to deny that they want to do everything together. Even making coffee seems better if they do it together.

They went back to bed, back under the warm and cozy covers, mugs in hand. Her hair was loose, falling by her shoulders. Her freckles are gorgeous, he thought. There was no makeup in there… he missed that face. He had only seen her like that in a counted number of occasions. - I think you want to ask me something. Or tell me. - he started, because he saw her looking down at her mug, contemplating something that wasn't really there, but in her mind. - Yeah, I… - she said softly, before sighing. - I think we both know… and need… to talk about this. What we feel. I think it's time. All out, don't you think?

He smiles. - Yes, I do. - he figured it was fair that he started, considering he was the one who was taking the big step that she was waiting for. - I am not… going to lie. Or make it complicated. I'm tired of being complicated… -he said, and she smiled knowing he was right. - I want this to work, Donna. More than anything. There is nothing that I wish more right now.

She nods softly. She smiles, really wide. She doesn't want to hide it, she doesn't have to. - It was about damn time, Specter. - she says, and they both laugh.

\- I understand if you feel like you can't trust me yet. Or if you don't feel safe about jumping in. I do. But I won't leave, I won't run. These are many years of my life that I threw away. And I can't believe why I didn't react before, but it's no use regretting it, I know that.

\- No. It's not. -she says, and her hand slides through the cover until it rests above his palm. Their fingers intertwine. They stare at each other… there wasn't much to say, not really. There would be a thousand apologies and regrets that neither of them needed. She didn't need to hear them, and he didn't need to hold them inside of him.

\- It may be different for both… to get used to something stronger, and serious. I don't care, I will try as many times as we need.

\- Let's hope it's enough once. -he says. She smiles, her hand squeezes his. - Yes. I believe it will be.

And they keep the silence for, like a minute. They look at each other and they drink the coffee. Their hands kept moving, fingers and fingers. - I'm sorry for everything I put you through. Sometimes I feel like I don't deserve you. -he broke the silence, and she notices his look is heavy now. Guilt, maybe a bit of self hate. - Hey… -she squeezes his hand tighter. - It's over. I know you never meant any harm. Not on purpose… It doesn't help, to keep repeating the same old things we both know we did, and no matter how sorry we are for them, they're past. We forgive ourselves, we forgive each other, so now we can move forward. There is no other way, Harvey. Let go. -she really felt like this was a breaking point. Not forgetting, but letting all that trash be nothing more than a memory, rather than a burden. He nods. And then he smiles. This woman was everything he had ever loved.

\- How's the coffee?

\- Best I've had in a very long time. -he says.

She stares straight into his eyes... _Why are you so cute?_. And he's also staring back. Of course they read each other; Donna, he could do that easily. And he, he had learned to read her long ago. She was looking at him with **sweetness**. That is the right word… she had this smile only a person that's melted by love could have, and puppy eyes.

Him, he observed her as if she wasn't real. Like someone staring at the Mona Lisa unable to believe that such a famous piece of beauty actually exists. **Devotion,** she thought. _He's staring as if I was the most dazzling thing he has seen. _

\- What? -she whispers.

\- You're perfect. And I could stare at you my whole life.

She raises her left hand, and it poses on his cheek. She caresses him, his skin is warm. He holds her hand with his, and turns his face to kiss her palm.

\- You're doing puppy eyes to me.

\- I'm not doing them to you, I can't help it.

\- I know, I'm kidding. And I love them, please use them more often.

\- Depends on what they're gonna get me. -she says. She didn't think about it, it was her gut speaking, her desire showing up, her usual playful flirting -that used to be regular between them, not to forget- having fun. It was Donna being Donna. But totally free. They didn't have to think twice before saying something they wished to say but didn't because it was going to be uncomfortable.

\- Donna Paulsen, it's eight in the morning. Do you want to take that path so early? -he was loving this, obviously. They didn't have to pretend no more and they seemed to get used to it very quickly. All that desire that piled up… the tension, the pressure… it's gonna come out, neither of them doubted it. - I most certainly… do. -she breathed out that last word, before turning to her nightstand and placing the mug in there.

She slowly crawled to him and straddled him, and he left his mug on the nightstand beside him.

She holds his face softly, and she kisses him. His hand rubs her upper thigh, the other one digs into her hair. They part, they breathe. She feels his perfume… she loves that one. She bends her face into his neck, breathes in, and the smell is intoxicating. She's loved that one for years, it's the Hugo Boss. She bites. After that, it's another blur, just like last night.


End file.
